#writing by rad

[radskull-69]

Mammon x reader stuff because I love him-

this man is TOXIC, ain’t gonna sugar coat it sry y’all.

you probably work for him or met him at one of his shows, happening to catch his eye

if your a imp or a hellhound he’d definitely keep it under wraps, weather it be you two boning or in a relationship. He cares for his image a lot.

if you’re a succubus he’d make it seem like it’s nothing but a one time thing, but behind close doors would keep making you lay him visits to ‘satisfy him’

definitely very cold and would probably not to after care :(

this man is a MAN CHILD, would definitely whine and pout when you don’t give him what he wants. Such a brat tbh

will sound mean while in his pov he sounds romantic, like you’re about to go on a date and he tosses you a matching dress to match his jester attire. Not even looking at you as he tosses it over his shoulder with a “put dis’ one on yeah? Make ya look like a good cunt.”

cat behaviour, 100%. Would be rude and cold but after a while of not getting enough or no attention from you he’ll throw you on his lap or lay himself on you (prepare to get crushed)

also he totally purrs, it’s a fact. Give him scratches.

since he has four arms he’s very grabby, probably always has one hand grabbing, patting or pinching you.

baby talks you in a sign of affection like he did to fizzie.

If he likes you enough he would buy you something expensive but would secretly benefit him as well, like a cute outfit that he just wanted to see you in.

if Ozzie ever found out about you two he’d never hear the end of it, so you two are a secret.

does get angrily easily and never admits when he’s the wrong one, crossing his arms and growling. But maybe after a day or two he’ll begrudgingly say sorry and get you a present. Maybe mc Donald’s.

if the fans love you both and ship you like they did with Ozzie an fizzarolly he’ll use it to his advantage and milk the SHIT out of it. Making cute vlogs and shitty love songs with his guitar to play, steeling off of Taylor swift probably.

#mammon helluva boss #mammon x reader helluva boss #helluva boss #x reader #headcannons #rad writes

[tswwwit]

How is the part fifth of the cult AU going?

Don't want you to feel pressure with the ask, feel free to ignore it. Take care❤️

It's currently just shy of 5k! I took a break for a bit, but momentum has returned. And I have some very fun scenes in mind I think people will like!

#answers #writing is hard #The break was needed but I am now refreshed #Also a few days off for the eclipse trip I made #That shit was rad #Even more fun: I'll *finally* get to one of the scenes I wrote previously #Then realized 'shit it's gonna take a while to get to that one isn't it' #Looking forward to when I get to copy/paste that into the document from my scene storage unit #Cult AU should only be six chapters and I'm pretty good at estimating length by now #But they'll be long chapters so there should be much to read

[ageofzero]

Yuna is the antagonist of a potential Final Fantasy X-3, thank you for coming to my TED Talk

edit: okay I'll put it under a read more since it'll be a long post (but not as long as my entire conversation was), but what's promised is due.

Now that I have to make the post for real I had to do some wiki reading on what the actual Things going on in the novella were, and… well, a lot of my theorycrafting was based on incomplete and kinda inaccurate information. BUT I can’t read Japanese, the book was never released here, and I am going to go with rule of cool for a little bit of this even as I keep the stuff that sounds kinda dumb on the surface. I’ll be the first to say that Tidus exploding from a bomb he thinks is a blitzball is dumb (true), and Chuami thinking she’s Auron’s daughter is a dumb plot beat (petty), but I’m weaving this bridge and I’m not going to rewrite those. I am going to change some contexts and make them exist in a narrative that I hope is compelling. That’s my disclaimer, now I’m gonna get into it.

SO.

The scenario from the novella and audio drama is thus: Tidus died again in an accident, and Yuna brings him back. But he’s not back in the same way that the Fayth gave this dream a real living body at the end of X-2. The official term for it is “beckoned”, but I probably won’t use that to describe him based on my previous understanding. No matter if he’s beckoned or not, or whatever terminology you want to use, the thing is that Yuna summoned him back. She’s holding him to life, and he can never know. It’s been a year since the moment Tidus died, and Yuna has seemingly regressed into patterns that put her into what was once Yevon’s circle. Tidus is looking injured/weakened (“Chuami: It wasn’t just [Tidus’s] words that felt hollow. When I shook his hand, his grip felt weak and lifeless... I think he’s injured. Or maybe he’s sick or something.”), and people are looking to Yuna for help or information regarding the strange not-quite Unsent (the beckoned) that are appearing in places in Spira. Help she is not capable of giving. Wakka and Lulu are protecting her as she prays in Besaid Temple. The world is seemingly acting out, with a second shoopuf appearing in the Moonflow and its energies overflowing and drawing more illusions into reality. (“Yuna: The Moonflow energy is responding to the will of the living. It’s as if… we’re in the Farplane.”) And it’s more vivid than what the Farplane is capable of, even breaking the rules of “beckoning”. This is something new, something worse. Something worse enough to bring back Sin (which I thought was just me extrapolating a potential, but they actually mention it in the audio drama that it happens). Yuna promises the people that she will defeat Sin, but Wakka tries to keep her from being made to promise such a thing at first, which is an interesting choice (“Wakka: Yuna, let’s go back to Besaid. They’ll push this all on you… Sin is for summoners, in their minds.”).

Where does the world go in this present circumstances? Why IS Yuna seemingly content to do what chafed her in the Eternal Calm short movie and stay praying in Besaid and helping the elders who are lost now that Yevon as they knew it is in shambles? Why are Lulu and Wakka enabling and protecting her in that? Why is Tidus looking injured and weak and why is Yuna keeping him at arm’s length? Why does she tell him that she’s fallen in love with someone else?

I know the typical story beat interpretation is “Yuna told him that and pushed him away so he wouldn’t be in danger for what she needs to do, bc defeating Sin caused his death last time”. But hear me out. Yuna knows Tidus isn’t alive. She knows that revealing that information to him will cause him to disappear again. She’s actively summoning him back to life and he has no idea (but he must suspect something is wrong, even before Yuna formally pulls away from him, he’s weakening and he probably doesn’t feel right in his own skin). I posit that her maintaining Tidus’s life is what she’s really doing praying in the Besaid Temple. She doesn’t want to get involved with the Moonflow situation, the shoopuf or the overflowing energy of the Moonflow itself. She doesn’t even really act when seeing all the ghosts in the crowd, and actively stops Kurgum from acting (plausible deniability: she and everyone else decide that sending them in that moment would be the wrong call and riots would break out, but that density of ghosts means that’s a significant amount of pyreflies that could become fiends at any moment).

I posit that Yuna’s powers are working, that people close to her think her powers aren’t working (Lulu and Wakka), and she’s hiding it from everyone else. That her powers aren’t working because she’s currently using them to maintain Tidus’s existence. And this maintaining is breaking the Farplane in half, because she’s powerful but has no idea what she’s doing. (Why would she really know what she’s doing or the consequences? Who has any information of what she’s doing and what will happen if she does it?) I posit that Yuna’s love for Tidus is so strong that it corrupts her sense of right and wrong. X-2 is Yuna largely going on a personal quest, and incidentally helping people but separating herself from the title of High Summoner and doing something she wants to do. Rikku encourages her to do something for herself for a change right before she agrees and runs off to become a sphere hunter. She still saves the world, this time from an ancient danger Old Yevon buried and an Unsent is threatening to use (for love, notably), but she did it in the course of looking for Tidus. Who the Fayth return to life, who she hugs and is so so relieved to have in her arms again.

She’s not going to let him go, she couldn’t let him die again so much that she called him back to life.

(side note: I never truly knew how this happened so I had to consult the wiki page on the novella, and I suspect what original information I was working with was misrepresented and misinterpreted. I openly admit that the wiki page doesn’t really help me fully understand what happened, aside from explaining how Tidus ended up in proximity to a bomb. My understanding from someone’s explanation was that an Unsent summoner on the island Yuna and Tidus got washed up on after a storm told her she could call back the dead if she wanted, as a summoner. They’re all made of pyreflies, Aeons and Fiends and People and Unsent alike, and summoners are in the business of manipulating pyreflies. Either calling them from the Fayth to form an Aeon, or Sending them to the Farplane so they do not become Fiends. A summoner with enough power could summon someone back from the dead, could they not? And this Unsent summoner knew how it worked, and told Yuna how to do it. But I don’t know how real that scene could be, or how accurate it is to what’s written in the book. It’s my rule of cool moment, though, and I worked with that as my understanding when I made this theory. We have to make our peace with that, if you’ll allow me this extrapolation of Spira’s rules and a summoner’s powers.)

(The meme is Tidus kicking a blitzball and it turned out it was a bomb and his head gets blown off, but wiki says they ended up on a vision of a Besaid from 1000 years ago, and the bomb was something neither Tidus or Yuna had seen before and to them it looked like a blitzball. So, Tidus approached what he thought was a blitzball, wondering who’s ball it was, and it exploded as he reached it. I still think that’s really dumb but I’m not editing it out bc Tidus’s death creates very interesting consequences.)

So, if Yuna is summoning Tidus back to life, and she desperately doesn’t want him to find this out so she avoids him and pushes him away through any means necessary, but he’s still weakening and fading enough to be noticeable by people… perhaps also himself… Yuna returning to Yevon in some capacity could just as likely be her looking for a means to keep feeding power to this summoning she’s doing so she doesn’t lose him. And what kind of consequences does it have to do this? He’s being summoned, but he’s not actually an Aeon. He’s not an Unsent, he’s not just being beckoned. He wasn’t even real, he was a dream in a summon held together by the raw power of Yu Yevon turning into Sin. The Moonflow overflowing and seeing a long-dead shoopuf is the least of the consequences. The Farplane is delicate, it requires careful maintenance, and here Yuna is shoving her foot in the door and holding it open for a solid year! And no one knows she’s doing this! Spira’s past is full of history, some of that long-buried secrets that no one was supposed to find again. Sin wasn’t supposed to be able to come back, but the ghosts aren’t staying ghosts anymore (“Lulu: I mean Sin came back, right? What’s to stop anything else from coming back?”).

Even people who only know her by reputation seem to think she’s acting strangely (“Kurgum: I thought Lady Yuna was… a righteous person.”), because something is wrong and no one can put their finger on what. Who would have the pieces to put any of this together, and who would even suspect Yuna in the first place? She’s actively not getting involved in politics, she’s locked herself in Besaid, she seems reluctant to answer someone she worked with and should be amicable with now (Baralai).

I think the story should follow down this path, I think it should find Yuna at the end of it, once savior and now destroyer. She’s willing to let the world rip apart in order to keep Tidus, and I think that’s a compelling premise for X-3. The past surging forward like ghosts, vengeful and lost and wanted and terrifying. Who sides with Yuna (Wakka, Lulu) and covers up the problem? Who bands together to face down the High Summoner (Tidus, Rikku)? Who doesn’t know where to place their allegiance, or who changes sides when they realize the extent of what Yuna’s hiding? What does she do when she’s faced with her friends, and the person she loves so much, telling her to stop?

There’s a line in Eternal Calm where Yaibal (named in X-2 but not in the movie itself), after asking about whether or not she’d be joining one of the factions, if she’d be making a faction of her own. And I think in this potential X-3, she’s making her own faction through the actions of becoming antagonist. She’s made Wakka cover for her, she acts in a way that make Lulu and Wakka both protect her regardless of whether or not they know what she’s doing. I think it would be so fascinating to make this a conscious decision on her part. Things have broken so utterly, and she’s desperate to hold them together, and becomes the antagonist in the process.

Squeenix would never do it, they’d never be so bold as to make Yuna the antagonist and follow through on this trajectory of her lying to people to hide that she’s the one breaking the world in half (up to returning the ghost of Sin itself to terrorize Spira). Sin isn’t the final boss in this one, it’d have to be Yuna, we have to stop her and fix what went wrong. It’s not ever gonna happen, but I still think Yuna should be the antagonist of X-3.

#Final Fantasy X #Final Fantasy X-2 #Final Fantasy X-3 #FFX #FF10 #meta #theorycrafting #personal #Let me weave you a really compelling bridge out of the malarky I know of post X-2 content #I promise you that Yuna is the antagonist in this scenario and Squeenix are cowards who’d never do it #Tega writes #it's under the read more #I did not go whole hog into the entire plotting out I did I've just introduced the premise #I had a deep conversation with my RBB writer involving my interpretations #He introduced other ideas that were rad #I don't have an exit strategy though #as in I have no idea how the game would resolve in this projected scenario #or how I would WANT it to resolve #I came up with a ''good'' ending that's tailor made to feel bad about your choices lmao #but that's not what I think the true ending would be #anyway none of that is specifically about how Yuna should be the antagonist #it's more like the delicious possibilities while the plot leads you to that conclusion #there was a lot and I already wrote nearly 2k words just to explain this much #I have to sort out the rest still it's stream of consciousness discord messages

[landwriter]

i am sorry i was so close-

#i've missed searching up all these little bits!! ahh!!! #oaths #honestly there's no excuse here #like #NONE #fic writing is just a vehicle for me to justify following up on every single 'i wonder...' that flickers thru my simple brain #am but a cat chasing a laser of curiosity on a wall and if the scratches i leave are legible it's icing on the cake #also frankly local heirloom & landrace fruit varieties are rad as fuck #i am never gonna resist the urge for a deep dive on that front #some of THE biggest nerds i've ever encountered are farmers market gardeners and growers #so in my meagre defense it is a very well-established Nerd Attractant #fanfic #about me #writing meta

[prince-liest]

Anybody ask for some dustapple fic that is as much Angel Dust/Lucifer PWP as it is Lucifer vs His Anxiety PVP? No? Have it anyway! <3

#hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #angel dust #dustapple #appledust #idk what their ship name is actually oops #nsft #personal #my writing #anyway back to your regularly scheduled deranged as hell rad/ostatic #(censored in case it throws this into an irrelevant ship tag)

[the-racer]

he didn't think anyone would be using the music room. but there is somd kid just wailing on the drums, completely oblivious to the world around him. he's almost violent with it.

he's waiting for the other guy to be done when he hears the loudest, most obnoxious cursing ever. he climbs to his feet and looks in. "what did ya do?" he asks.

"nothing, fuck off!" the other guy bites back. race ignores him and walks over anyway.

"break your drumstick?"

"no, fuck off!" he repeats, looking up. he's pretty, race thinks. his freckles. even the bruise around his eye is pretty.

"let me see. i'll clean it for you."

"what the- i told you to fuck off already!"

"and i didn't listen. you just split your hand open. let me see. or i can go get the school nurse?" race smiles triumphantly as the other guy holds out his hand. "you literally have wood splinters in your hand."

"i broke a fucking drumstick, of course i got wood in my hand!" he bites his lip to keep from making a terrible joke. "gonna get it out?" race nods, still suppressing a laugh.

"if i had tweezers or something, for sure." the guy sighs. "gimme a couple second, i think there's a first aid kit in the back." he finds the kit and comes back to the guy. he sits on the floor by the drummer guy's seat. he's gotta find out his name. "i'm race, by the way." after a moment of silence, he gets a response.

"spot." race nods.

"get that from all the freckles?"

"no. the bruises." that's much sadder. race pulls the small splinters out of spot's hand, smiling when he doesn't flinch even slightly.

"i gotta clean it now. if it hurts, no, it doesn't." he's quiet as he cleans spot's hand and then bandages it. he can feel spot staring at him, checking him out, eyes landing on his lips for a very long time. "good?" he asks as he finishes wrapping his hand. spot flexes his hand.

"fine." race looks up at him, still seated on the ground. "so, um, where's race from?"

"i'm fast," he replies, smiling a little. spot nods back, still flexing his hand. he has his other drumstick in his other hand, twirling it around his fingers.

"and where'd you learn this?" he raises his bandaged hand.

"i get in fights a lot and i learned pretty quick how to fix myself up." he runs a hand through his hair, pushing his curls back from his face. he doesn't miss spot's eyes tracking every move he makes.

"yeah, i get into fights too. that's where all the bruises and cuts come from."

"bruises are hot though," race tells him, pointedly looking at the bruise around his eye. he grins slightly as spot flushes. he's pretty when he blushes.

"are they?"

"i think so." spot nods and looks down, away from him. he feels a little proud of himself. spot is clearly a tough guy and he's proud he can make spot blush like that. "especially on you." he shuffles closer. he wants to kiss him so bad. spot looks back, finding race sitting practically right in front of him. spot leans in closer, their faces only a few inches apart.

"are you going to..."

"can i?" he asks, leaning forward too, so they're speaking into each other's lips.

"yeah."

#sprace!! #theyre band kids and spots a little angry dude who breaks his sticks #race is lowkey a war medic in this and its rad #i dunno how much i like this but i also LOVE this #spots freckly and tough but he blushes and is a little caught off guard when someone flirts #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #racetrack newsies #livesies #spot x race #newsies #92sies #mars' writing!!

[radical-sky]

Shelter, part 1

don't you ever leave me alone, my war is over, be my shelter from the storm

One year post-Fallout, Ilsa joins the IMF, partnering with Ethan and his team. After their first mission goes catastrophically wrong, Ethan sacrifices himself in a desperate bid to save Ilsa's life. Believing he failed and she's dead, Ethan suffers the consequences of the unsuccessful mission. Five months later, the team - and Ilsa, get him out.

pairing: Ilsa/Ethan

wordcount: 4.1k

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, violence, graphic depictions/descriptions of torture and the aftermath, pregnancy, very minor mention of a suicide attempt.

AO3 (user restricted) here

ENDLESS thank you to the truly amazing @agentfaust for the most thorough, in depth, and detailed beta anyone has ever given me. You are phenomenal babe!!

Ilsa can’t remember the last time she was tempted to fidget, all nervous ticks trained out of her before she was even with MI6. The old habits have never been as tempting as they are now, standing in a cold and damp third-world prison waiting for Ethan to be brought out to her.

Well, not just her. The White Widow stands next to her, her brother not far away. He scowls at Ilsa, not happy to be here and not happy to risk his and his sister’s lives on a job for her. It’s nothing sanctioned (if any members of your team are caught or killed, the secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions) but the moment Benji had finally, finally found Ethan the team had gotten things moving as quickly as possible. Luther and Benji worked their computers nearly 24 hours a day, and Ilsa called favors and made connections in country wherever she could. Even Brandt was helping, pulling strings and doing as much as he could legally behind the scenes while staying their inside man at the IMF.  

Luther or Benji (it doesn’t matter now because they both had been trying their damnedest to get it done) had hacked into the security system in the prison; cameras in every cell, interrogation room, the hallways. Not that any of them needed to see what they were doing to Ethan (in the two weeks since she first saw him on the grainy camera feed it’s all she sees when she closes her eyes, doesn’t need audio to hear his screams and the sounds they rip from his throat, or backdated footage to catalog what tool made each scar or bleeding wound on his body. Those pictures will be seared in her brain for all eternity. She wants and yearns and rages at the sacrifice he made for her, for them, and falls asleep with a screen playing live footage from his cell in her lap, showing him pressed back into the corner of the tiny cage, curled up protectively, shivering or trembling she can’t tell. Wishing she could tell him somehow I’m coming. I will get you out. I haven’t forgotten about you. you’re not disavowed to me. I’m sorry. I’m so terribly sorry Ethan). 

They don’t have to watch the footage for long to decide that any escape that depends on Ethan getting himself out won’t happen. Without government backing and even with Brandt’s help they don’t have the resources or the manpower to storm the prison and break him out. That left one option, and it wasn’t one that any of them liked. The White Widow hadn’t been the least bit interested in taking a call from Ilsa until she’d said John Lark needs your help. 

The team had debated on how to refer to Ethan, desperately wanting to keep his identity as an American agent secret. They knew he hadn’t revealed it, the terrorists would have auctioned him off or killed him if he had. The White Widow knew him as John Lark, and that was all it took. From there Alanna was easily bargained into breaking him out. To Ilsa’s trained eye she could tell Ethan intrigued the other woman. It wasn’t a jealous realization, wasn’t even a shock. It’s Ethan - people are drawn to him, he’s magnetic without even trying or meaning to be. Without even being in the room he can convince people to take jobs that are completely against what they usually do. Ilsa can speak to it herself, she knew she was burning a bridge when she saved him the first time, but despite her past, she couldn’t watch Vinter kill him in the most painful way possible. She’s never been in a relationship like the one with Ethan, drawn in and ready to sacrifice the mission for someone else. Ilsa had been ready to be out of the game for a long time, before Kashmir had believed that it would never - could never - happen. Ethan changed that. Changed her reasons for wanting out. She didn’t plan on falling in love when she tossed him the key in London.

Breaking him out had been the original plan, but when Zola studied the camera footage, guard patterns, and security he decided it would cost too many men. A second plan was formed, and the White Widow had brokered a trade as diplomatically as she always had; the prisoner who was arrested after a motorcycle accident on terrorism charges 5 months ago traded for cash and enough weapons for a small personal army. Ilsa knows she should be as worried about what the weapons will be used for as the rest of the team, but even though she is part of them now, she operated differently for so long that she’s almost forgotten what it’s like to have those concerns. It’s Ethan, surely any price is worth his freedom? (Deep down Ilsa knows Ethan would disagree, loudly, with his dying breath, that his own life is not worth a single innocent life.) Benji and Luther had come up with a secondary mission, running alongside the retrieval to guarantee there would be no innocent lives lost because of the weapons traded for him. It took another week for Alanna to acquire the weapons, leaving ample time for the team to gather the cash for Ethan and the separate cash for Alanna, one-half of the price for her involvement in the exchange. Alanna, just like the terrorists, had also required a two part payment, unable to pass up an opportunity when it presented itself to her. Ilsa doesn’t worry about the other half of Alanna’s fee, it's a problem for later. After Ethan is back and healed and whole again. She hopes he won’t be too furious with her for agreeing to it on his behalf. 

So, now here she is. Not fidgeting. Not twisting her ankle or flexing her calf muscles and imaging she can feel the rods and pins holding her leg together, or the scar where her tibia bone punched through the skin of her calf, not twisting her arm and feeling knitted scars where the bones ground together excruciatingly. 

And above all else she’s not resting her hand on the barely there bump on her stomach, the bump invisible and hidden beneath a loose blouse and trench coat. Invisible to everyone who doesn’t know her and Ethan’s secret. 

———

The first mission wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

It was supposed to be easy and wonderful and the start of the greatest partnership of his life. 

So of course, like everything else in his life, it went to shit in 5 minutes. 

He and Ilsa had never exactly named The Thing between them, except that it was theirs. He didn’t tell Benji and Luther (although greatly suspected Luther knew and Benji was suspicious), and Ilsa being a free agent didn’t have anyone to tell. They were each other's greatest secret, greatest weakness, greatest compromise. Because they did compromise each other. There was no question after they’d saved each other so many times, sacrificing the mission for them. The Thing started simply. After handing Lane off to MI6 they spent a week in London exploring each other's bodies carefully around broken ribs and bruised necks (and how he had enjoyed adding his marks to her neck and having her hands on his chest) telling stories and sharing the private, secret parts of themselves no one else knew - then a night Cape Town, a weekend in Moscow, six hours in Brussels, two days in Paris, traveling 8 hours to spend half that time in her hotel room in Athens. Whenever they could and their schedules overlapped enough, or if they even happened to be in the same time zone, they were together. 

After Julia, he didn’t think he’d ever feel this way about another woman. 

Any chance he could he’d pull her into his missions. Anything to have her by his side. Ilsa was always available and never said no. She was traveling a lot, but he didn’t think she was taking any other jobs as a free agent, waiting for him to call her and almost always close by. Ethan had wondered many times if she declined jobs and traveled to follow him, just close enough it was convenient. When Brandt told him Sloane had given him the approval to extend the offer of a permanent position with the IMF - with Ethan’s team - to Ilsa he was perhaps the happiest he’d ever been. The two of them together - partners - properly, permanently. 

He never thought he’d be considering marriage again either.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when it fell apart. The plan failed. His backup scenarios ran out. There were no more moves, no more chess pieces. So when he wrecked and went down, Ilsa dead in his earpiece, Benji too late to save her, a part of him, all hope, died with her. When he saw his pursuers approaching he was relieved, he’d never been so ready or willing to meet death than in that moment. To go where Ilsa would be waiting for him. He was already halfway there, a piece of rebar in his chest, internal injuries too numerous to catalog, his leg didn’t feel right, arm wouldn’t lift. Ethan closed his eyes, ready for the bullet that would end his life. 

He certainly hadn’t expected them to take him alive, put him in the hospital, and get him just healthy enough that he’d survive the torture, and survive he did, but not as Ethan Hunt. As something else, a shell of a human. All hope lost. No prayer of rescue. He knew he was disavowed and no help would be coming. He tried to escape, more than once. Each time failed and each time it got worse. So he kept his mouth shut and took what they gave him. Didn’t utter a word except for the screams and shouts when it became too much. He’d already failed everything and everyone else. He couldn’t fail here. Couldn’t stand to betray his country on top of it all. 

When his captors told him he was being traded for goods more valuable than him, he knew he had to end it or escape. He couldn’t do this indefinitely. Eventually, he’d break and the shell would crack and he’d be human again. So he plotted and planned, and when they came for him he knew what he had to do. His final mission, the last plan, the one to end it all. 

———

The far door opens with a clang and three guards file in, dragging a body by a chain between them. 

She’d known it would be shocking seeing him again and was already braced for what condition he’d be in, but she wasn’t quite prepared for how awful it would be to come face to face with the consequences of her own failures. How jarring it’d be to see Ethan so still and lifeless, compliant. She would’ve guessed he’d die before giving up. 

Ilsa is the cynical one, she knows the harsh realities and cruelties of this world. She’s practical. She’s been the torturer and the assassin with no regard for the lives she’s affecting. But not Ethan, it was never supposed to be him that faced down the darkness of her world and had to, somehow, come out the other side. Ilsa has already done that. Too many times to count. It’s made her who she is and she’s not prepared to be on the opposite side of that. Ilsa had been alone for so long before him and no one had ever protected her like this before - sacrificing themselves to shield her from her own mistake. She hopes it hasn’t destroyed Ethan. Taken away his loyalty, compassion, the ability to see goodness in everyone, or the desire to protect everyone. It takes every bit of her not to step forward and cradle his body to hers when another guard grabs his legs and the two men toss Ethan into the center of the room. 

Ethan hits the ground with a thud and multiple wet coughs. 

“Fucker tried to kill himself. Been a long time since he’s had that much energy.”

Fury, hatred, and grief all ripple through her at the words, but the man spoke in his native tongue, one she isn’t supposed to speak. She keeps her face and body language impassive. This isn’t a man she’s deeply in love with. He’s a job, a mission required in the course of her duties. Nothing more than the man her employers want her to hunt down and bring to them. 

If only it were that simple.

Ilsa steps forward and crouches in front of Ethan, fisting her hand into his hair. She pulls up harshly, detaching her mind from her body and what she is about to do. (Her mind is raking her eyes over him, unable to focus on one thing because her attention is immediately drawn to something else. There’s a thick chain fastened around his neck, tight to his skin and surrounded by some of the deepest bruising she’s ever seen. The end of it trails out from his neck, a mocking and sick impersonation of a leash. His hands are bound behind his back with rope that’s splotchy bright red with new blood and dark almost black of old, dried blood. She can’t see the skin of his wrists. She doesn’t want to. He’s shirtless and Ilsa can count his ribs where they protrude from his chest and the vertebrae of his spine down his scarred and bleeding back. She can identify where and what bones of his bare feet and hands have been broken and healed wrong because she’s done that, she’s broken those bones on prisoners before. She wonders what his legs look like under the ripped and torn tac pants he’s still wearing from the mission. Each breath rattles in and out across lips that are cracked and bleeding. Her eyes jump across him and she is seething, furious, ready to burn down th-) Ethan’s glare is still defiant when their eyes meet, and before he recognizes her he spits a wad of blood and saliva into her face. He starts to speak in a hoarse, raspy voice completely foreign to him “you might as well just kil-”

He cuts off as he realizes it’s her. Almost instantly his face collapses into the most profound display of grief and heartbreak and utter relief she’s ever seen. It’s an expression meant to be carved in marble, painted and displayed in a museum, or preserved in a book for all eternity but not on someone's face. Human beings aren’t supposed to look like that, especially not at her. Not for her, when she’s done so much wrong. There’s blood running from his bruised nose and congealing in the sparse hair on his lip. The smack she delivers to his face adds more to it. 

“Хуй!” She swears in Russian and wipes her face as she stands and pushes Ethan away. 

There is a simmering beast of rage burning within her. She has killed and tortured and maimed and done things that haunt her. Nothing will haunt her as much as the way his face instantly shuts off, all the emotion in his expression a moment before disappears. He doesn’t flinch or wince with the slap. Just takes it, and flops motionless to the ground. He’s nothing, a blank slate as if Ethan is gone, and here is his corpse. 

“This is the target.” Ilsa still speaks in Russian, accent perfect, with no hint that it’s not her native tongue. No hint of the swirling emotions within her. She nods to the prison warden. Alanna, face a perfect mask, passes the backpack stacked full of cash to him. 

“We can continue with the exchange then. I assure you, it’s all there. Couldn’t stay in the business like this if we didn’t ensure all terms were met on both sides.” Alanna says, perfect smile in place. Underneath it though, her skin has paled a shade. Shocked by the brutality Ethan has suffered. 

The man takes it, a slimy grin exposing yellow teeth as he hands it to another man who excuses himself to count it. 

“When my man confirms it you’re free to leave with him.” He rakes a dirty hand through his greasy hair and sends both women another nauseating smile. 

Only in your wildest dreams, Ilsa thinks as she nods to him again. She expected nothing less, to everyone else this is nothing more than a business transaction.

The room waits in silence, save for Ethan’s rattling breaths. She glances at the White Widow whose face has gone another shade paler as she looks more closely at Ethan. Her brother behind her looks grim but is no longer glaring at Ilsa. 

She refocuses on Ethan. He hasn’t moved since she slapped and pushed him back to the ground, hasn’t even turned his head so his face isn’t resting on the floor. His breaths begin to take on a wet quality and she steps over to him with less urgency than she feels. Ilsa pauses when she gets to him as if she’s considering, and carelessly uses her foot to push him up and onto his shoulder, the closest she can get him to the recovery position. 

“Can’t have you dying before my employers get their hands on you can we?” She says, her voice low as she crouches back in front of him, trying to meet his eyes and communicate with just a glance like they used to. His stare is dead ahead, eyes unfocused. There’s a small pool of blood where his face was just resting on the ground, more running from his nose and mouth. It’s concerning, but not enough to be immediately life-threatening alone. She’s not sure if paired with the rest of his injuries and the disassociation it’s a significant concern. 

She stays crouched by him, listening to his breathing and watching his chest rise and fall jerkily, winces as she can his broken ribs flex and expand under the skin that’s practically molded to them he’s so thin. 

Ilsa stands when the outer door opens and the man who counted the money nods. 

The warden looks at them, “It seems our terms have been met, the terrorist is yours. My men will move him to your vehicle. It’s a pleasure to do business with you, perhaps next time we’ll meet under more pleasurable circumstances.”

Ilsa wants to punch the man square in his smug face, maybe whip around his back and break his neck with her thighs. Instead, she nods and motions two guards forward. 

“Carry him. My employers will not appreciate any more damage to the goods.”

The warden translates, and there is a brief bickering back and forth before the guards begrudgingly scoop Ethan up by his feet and under his arms. It’s not a long walk to the roof of the compound, but it still concerns Ilsa that Ethan doesn’t move or flinch throughout the journey no matter how many times the guards carelessly let him bump into the walls of the corridor. 

Outside on the roof, the light rain from when they arrived has lifted, leaving the air damp and chilling to the bone. She instantly wants to shiver and pull her coat tighter around herself.

Ilsa points to the helicopter she arrived in, indicating where she wants the guards to set Ethan. They toss him in, none too gently. She dismisses them with a flick of her hand and they retreat back inside. She nods at Alanna and Zola, as they climb into their own helicopter.

Alanna has to shout over the sound of both helicopters spinning up, “I trust you’ll ensure he’s well healed by the time I need to call on the second half of my payment.”

Ilsa nods again, not needing another reminder of the other half of the agreement, “You have my guarantee.”

She nods to them in dismissal before ducking under the spinning rotors, stepping up into the helicopter, and sliding the door closed with a satisfying thunk when it latches. She reaches forward and taps Brandt, behind the stick of the chopper, on the shoulder, giving him the signal to fly to their first rendezvous point with Luther and Benji. His gaze is focused on Ethan, worry written in every wrinkle of his face. 

As gently as she can she rights Ethan, crouching on the floor and leaning him against the fuselage of the helicopter. He’s still out of it, gaze empty and unfocused. Ilsa blinks back sudden wetness in her eyes and swallows a choking feeling rising in her throat before dragging the first of the multiple medical bags towards her, fishing a pair of medical shears out of a front pocket. She begins to reach behind Ethan to cut the ropes on his hands when he makes an almost imperceptible sound of pain, barely audible over the sound of the helicopter as it lifts in the air. She’d have missed it if she wasn’t leaning over him. As quickly as she can she leans back, gently cradling his body to rest back against the fuselage. His eyes are red and bloodshot, one swollen, and the other already surrounded by bruising. But they are staring directly at her, locked onto her face, his expression a mix of fear and hope, an open book to her always. 

“Ilsa?” He asks in the same shattered voice as before. 

“Yes, it’s me. It’s me.” She drops the medical shears and cups his cheek with one hand, the other cradling the back of his head, her fingers tangling into his hair. 

Ethan is staring at her with so much intensity it’s almost overwhelming. Like she’s an oasis in the desert and he’s drinking her in, a dying man and she’s the thing he needs to survive. He leans his cheek into her palm, pressing into it and nosing into her wrist, eyes falling shut for the briefest moment before they snap open and he pulls his head up like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done, eyes locked back on her. 

“You’re real? You’re alive? This is all real?” Ethan’s eyes are brimming with tears and he’s not even trying to blink them away, afraid she’ll disappear if he takes his gaze off of her for even a millisecond.  

She presses a kiss to his forehead, “It’s all real. I’m real, I’m alive. You’re alright, you’re okay.”

Ilsa swipes her thumb over the bruise under his eye, catching a tear as it falls and watching as his face crumples with relief. She pulls him into her, tucking his face into the side of her neck, pressing her own cheek on top of his head, one hand still tangled in his hair, holding. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. We’re both alive. You’ll be okay. The other arm wraps around him carefully, avoiding the worst of the wounds on his back and holding him close for the first time in five months, pressing them together, and wishing she could lay her claim on him. She’ll never be able to protect him entirely, but damn if she doesn’t wish she could. Soon she’s crying too, silent, as Ethan shakes in her hold. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. She thinks. 

They’re safe. Together. Alive. A weight she didn’t know was on her shoulders lifts, relief coursing through her so powerfully it leaves her feeling breathless, overwhelmed, and exhausted. There is a fine tremble running through her hands. She almost didn’t get this; holding him, kissing him, loving him.

The baby kicks, shifts inside of her and she holds back a gasp. The doctor who had performed the surgery on her leg had consulted an OB after confirming she was indeed pregnant. After the surgery, there had been conversations - what to expect and when, how often she should be coming in for check-ups, and more dietary and health recommendations for herself than she wanted to think about. The list had been endless, but she had been out of it with pain, grief over losing Ethan, and overwhelmed with shock that she was pregnant after a lifetime of being told she couldn’t conceive children. But now, thinking back, the doctor had told she’d start to feel kicks and movement around five months. Even with tears on her face, she smiles a bit. He’s already like his father with perfect timing. She presses more kisses to Ethan’s hair, making her way down his face with gentle touches of her lips to his skin, ghosting over his eye, trailing across his cheekbone, and collecting salty tears until she gets to his mouth. He surges up to meet her, pressing them together desperately and with more force than she thought he was capable of. Ilsa smiles into him, god she missed this. 

Meet your dad, little man, he’s the best of us. 

an: anyone catch the sneaky little line of dialogue i stole from rogue nation in there?? title of this fic and the lyrics at the beginning are from the war, by syml. also, xуй means dick in Russian

taglist (i made this from people who showed interest, please don't hesitate to ask to be removed (or added!!), absolutely no hard feelings): @valmare @thethistlegirl @alcafrach @izzypuppybutt

#mission impossible #ilsa faust fanfic #ethan hunt fanfic #mission impossible fic #ethan hunt #ilsa faust #ethan x ilsa #ilsaethan #ethanilsa #ilsa x ethan #rad writes #my writing

[thewildsophia]

OK KO, Let's be Heroes!//KO x Older Sibling!Reader

A/N: I can't believe this hasn't been written before omg. I had the thought of an older sibling reader to KO rolling around in my head while watching the series and was shocked to find no fanfics with the premise. So I did it myself.

NOTE: The Reader's powers are basically Portgas D. Ace's from One Piece. If you aren't familiar, I've attached a few gifs to give you an idea of what it's like.

Word Count: 2026

"Read More Link" placed due to length.

So I can’t think of a realistic way for Reader to be a biological older sibling to KO considering the timeline of what happened.

Soooooooo…You took on the role of KO’s older sibling, even though you’re not related by blood.

[Insert tragic backstory here] and Carol had found you when you were a young teenager wandering about without a home to go to. When she found that out about you, she couldn’t in good conscience leave you alone, so she…adopted you basically. There wasn’t any paperwork involved so you just unofficially become her second child.

Carol was SHOOK when she found out about your superpower (and that’s putting it lightly, she was freaking out--).

It happened when she failed to light the fire underneath her stove a few days after you came to live with her and KO. Not thinking much about it, you held your finger up and lit the fire yourself. When she turned and saw the small fire burning on the tip of your finger she freaked tf out thinking you were hurt. 

A one-hour explanation later, she was now on board as to what power you have: You’re made out of fire and can set other things on fire just by looking at them. You even showed her some of your moves the next day faaaaar away from anything flammable. 

Carol encouraged you to become a hero and with her help you eventually did. You became a decently high-ranking hero at a young age, clocking in at level 6. 

There were a LOT of companies trying and failing to recruit you, but you chose to stay home with Carol and KO (no Carol is NOT crying-).

KO was quite young when you were “adopted,” being around 3 or 4 at the time. Because of that, he always assumed that you were his older sibling by blood and it wasn’t until one day between ages 6 to 11 that Carol told him the truth.

My boy was shocked, but it didn’t change anything between your dynamic. 

In fact, you became even more of an inspiration to him on his path to becoming a hero!

You helped Carol a lot at the fitness dojo until Carol got KO a job at Gar’s, to which Carol also had you hired to keep an eye on KO. Not that she didn’t trust him, she just knew that he could get in over his head sometimes and wanted to have someone be there to protect him. 

Talking about Gar’s, Rad and Enid absolutely ADORE you. You’re the unofficial manager appointed by them truly because you are a few levels higher than them. 

At first, when they heard they were getting two new coworkers, they didn’t think much of it. You and KO seemed nice enough so they didn’t mind having you around. 

It’s not until the Darell robot for the day comes busting into the plaza that their opinion changes. 

Just ask KO is about to get absolutely decked by Darell, you zoomed onto the scene in a blaze of fire and punched the bot, setting it on fire while also hitting it with enough force to send it back to Boxmore with KO nestled into your other arm. 

“Nobody ever touched my little brother.” You muttered under your breath while wrapping KO into your arms further to soothe him. You walk past a stunned Rad and Enid as you enter the store and get back to work.

That day, Rad and Enid also became your younger siblings. Pestering you with questions like “How did you get so strong?” and “Where did you get that power from?” Considering you’re a year or two older and much stronger you embraced the title with honor.

You actually became a little bit of a local celebrity after working at Gar’s for a while. People, locals really, would occasionally come in a ask to take a picture with you. Abashed, you said yes every time because you really couldn’t say no. Real Magic Skeleton even has a picture of you on his site with a small bio (You blushed so hard when you found out you thought you were gonna explode).

Speaking of which, KO LOVES to flaunt you around and hype you up, much to your embarrassment. He says stuff like, “Look at my cool amazingly strong older sibling!” and “My older sibling could beat up your older sibling!” 

KO means well, but he embarrasses the shit out of you.

MAD PROTECTIVE. If Carol is protective then you are on another level entirely. If someone even says something mean about KO it’s on sight. People learned very quickly that you are KO’s older sibling and that you will not hesitate to DIE to protect him (KO prays that it never comes to that).

I could see a rude customer coming in and harassing KO about Cob knows what and you just come up behind them and punch them out of the store. When Mr. Gar confronted you about it, you held your ground and stated proudly what you had done. He was honestly surprised at your resolve and didn’t punish you at all, saying “You should stick up for yourself and the ones you love.”

Lord Boxman even became a little weary about attacking the plaza knowing that you worked there and you are a pretty strong defender. That doesn’t stop him, of course, but he does strategize to combat you better.

Professor Venomous encourages Boxman to capture you and “convert” you to villainy since your power is something that could be very useful to them. You’ve heard people throughout your life make comments about how “villainous” your power is, but you never let it get to your head since you know who you are and that’s all that matters. 

Taking. Naps. Together. Seriously, if KO ever doses off during one of his shifts, you’re quick to follow him. You’ll scoop him up into your arms and sit down somewhere in the corner and fall asleep with him. Rad and Enid think it’s absolutely adorable and have several pictures of you two.

Rad and Enid will even join your cuddle pile in the break room when time permits (or when they make the time themselves).

KO will even occasionally crawl into your bed at home and sleep with you there. He says that your bed is more comfortable than his, but you really know he gets lonely sometimes.

Piggyback rides! KO loves to lounge on your shoulders and back and will often hang off of you as he does with Rad. 

You’re also just used to the feeling of holding/carrying KO that it sometimes feels weird when you haven’t for a while.

When you met TKO for the first time you kinda panicked like many of the other plaza members. It was an especially stressful time in your life (and probably much more for Carol).

TKO wasn’t that fond of you either which made everything 10x harder to deal with. He didn’t actively dislike you, it was more like he wanted nothing to do with you.

Once KO came out of that initial swap between himself and TKO, you didn’t really think much about it. 

When he mentioned some “Shadowy Figure” though you immediately began to do as much research as you could on the guy, you were determined to beat the crap out of this guy (if not kill him-).

Listening to KO cry into your and Carol’s arms blabbering about, “I’m so sorry!” and “I don’t know what he did to me!” You honestly thought this man had touched KO (I know I’m not the only one…right??). It took a lot of coaxing, but you eventually managed to understand what happened when KO told you the full story.

It’s not until Dendy begins to monitor KO and TKO that you start to give his alter much thought. You encourage KO to pursue research into his darker ego, assuming he’s okay with it of course, and offer to be someone he can talk to about it if he isn’t comfortable talking to anyone else about it. 

During some of these talks, you open up about yourself a bit to KO to make him feel better and let him know that the negative emotions he feels are normal. 

During some of the more intimate conversations, you tell him how you used to hurt people and even kill at times before Carol took you in.

KO doesn’t believe you at first. How could someone so kind and loving have killed in their life? You use that to help you explain that good people do bad things sometimes, but that doesn’t make them a bad person. 

You teach him that TKO isn’t something that he should be ashamed of and cage up in the back of his mind, but could instead be someone to rely on in times of need.

He feels a lot better after you tell him all of this.

Hugging and holding KO close to you during nights when he feels really bad about himself. Where he doubts his ability to become a good hero and to be able to harness TKO’s powers. 

You’d rock him back in forth in his bed while quietly soothing him over his crying. He asked you not to tell Mommy and you promised him that he had your word.

I could honestly see Reader lying to cover up KO’s tracks. Like KO is caught doing something he absolutely should not be doing and instead of immediately admitting fault, you would come up with some realistic yet unfeasible lie that only works about 50% of the time.

KO loves to spar with you! He learned most of his physical skills from you, stuff like punching, jumping, kicking, and all that fun stuff. You’ve never used your fire powers against him though.

There was one incident where Boxmore accidentally found out what your weakness is, that being water. A Shannon bot had thrown you into the little kiddie pool Rad and Enid had set up before the attack started.

When you jumped out of the pool soaking wet and unable to start a fire, the stupid sibling trio laughed and mocked you. Enid was quick to come in with a kick to Raymond’s head and you soon found your footing.

Boxmore learned that day not to underestimate you as even without your powers you’re still a physically strong hero.

However, it would seem that Boxman and Professor Venomous stored that data about you since some of the bots they send are equipped with water guns. You’ve gotten pretty good at dodging them, so that’s kinda cool.

You do remember one time after KO had gotten a handle over TKO where you had been drenched with a bucket of water and right as you were about to get socked by Raymond, KO had pushed you out of the way and dodged the punch himself.

You had never been more proud of KO than in that moment and you made that known to him after the fight. You ran up to him and cradled him in your arms talking about how proud you were and that he was becoming such a fine hero (that last one got him to blush a little).

Rad and Enid definitely took a picture of this and then proceeded to print out a copy and put it in the break room.

When you and KO found out that your mom was dating Mr. Gar, you both were a little unsure about how you felt. When Rad and Enid asked about it, they asked the two of you together and then asked you separately. 

Seeing as you’re the older sibling they thought that you would have had a better idea of how you feel about the whole arrangement and were bummed out when they realized that you really didn’t know how you felt. 

After the date you four hosted for Carol and Mr. Gar, both you and KO see how happy Mr. Gar makes your mom and decide that if she’s happy then you’re happy as well.

KO is honestly one of the best younger brothers you could ever ask for. He’s kind and selfless and wants to help others when he can. And in return, you are the best older sibling that KO could ever ask for.

Sorry the format looks off in some places, Tumblr just makes booty juice decisions like limiting the character limit per block to 4096 words...

#ok ko #ok ko let's be heroes #ok ko x reader #ok ko let's be heroes x reader #KO x reader #Enid x reader #Rad x reader #Radicles x reader #carol x reader #sibling reader #thewildsophia writes

[radaverse]

Do you ever feel EXTREMELY self conscious about your own work or something 💀

artist moment

#legit happened to me several times about ToM #I'm just there then I'm like “WHAT IF THIS IS TOO MUCH?!?! WHAT IF I'M WRITING IT WRONG?!?!” #I guess I have a kind of “trauma” regarding writing badly 💀 #when I was a child my writing was absolutely garbage and now I'm scared of writing badly again 😭⚰️ #MAN I'M JUST THERE TRYING TO SLEEP BUT MY BRAIN COMES LIKE “rad what if tom is too much angst” AND I'M LIKE 👀 #the fear #tower of mistakes #radaverse #I'll also post silly thoughts often to not make this tumblr go so silent when I'm still cooking

[radskull-69]

Adam x reader headcanon’s

First things first, this man is a pathetic bitch. Though he definitely won’t admit it to anyone, not even himself.

this guy has been divorced TWICE, like- goddamn bro.

but even then he’d be a cocky son of a bitch, so when he meets you he act as if the relationship is nothing but another lay.

so this is all before dating officially

though he does do small things to show he cares, like whenever you’re going out to eat he’ll ask if you want anything without asking you to pay.

def one of those guys that’s plays the guitar to you while making king uncomfortable eye contact, like that scene with Ken and barbie.

would only watch barbie with you because he thinks it’ll get him head that night, doesn’t understand the movie at all even if you try to explain.

calls you basic pet names like ‘babe’ ‘sexy’ ‘baby girl’, but his own special pet name for you is ‘cunt master’ to match his own title.

he’s over you like a cat, he’d be leaning heavily against your smaller frame while talking about nothing before he pushed you away and walked off with a ‘cya babe!’

makes you both share a Spotify playlist because he’s seen other people do it, but he will make fun of most of the songs you add

sends you links to porn he thinks are cool

sends you a million memes a day and when you don’t watch them all he gets pissy

HATES apples, apples are banned from the house. That goes for apple juice too.

Adam, the typa guy to wear a shirt like THIS

plays video games religiously (lol, get it?) and makes you play with him, but if you beat him he’ll always say ‘it’s because he let you’

encourages you to fold your wings in the same manner he does, and when you do you realise just how comfy it is. He’s smug about it

if he ever sees you in public he’ll start yelling your name and wave you over, he won’t stop yelling and he won’t be the one coming to you. Even if the other angels around get annoyed by his ruckus

takes you to work with him and when sera questions it he says your his ‘emotional support angel’ and if they make you leave he’ll call it work abuse.

listens to music as he sleeps, but it’s never calm music. It’s always rock or metal blasting in his ears and he sleeps like a baby because of it

encourages you to get matching tattoos, he feels it’ll make this situationship feel more permanent without him needing to say it

his tattoo says ‘dick master’ and yours say ‘cunt master’

cats hate him and he hates cats

makes you both go to the beach just so he can show off his bod, and totally not to check out yours-

btw, this guy is chubby. Even then he gloats about his body (as he should) but deep deep down he is insecure, he’ll never admit it tho.

his tinder profile was so cringey thank god he doesn’t have tinder anymore

Makes Candace jokes ALL THE DAMN TIME

#Adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel x reader #headcannons #rad writes

[the-first-spinjitzu-master]

Okay it’s 3am and I have to be at my first day of work at my new job in seven hours.. but I just had a THOUGHT.

So hear me out- Jay can control electricity. Obviously.

But has anyone else considered the idea of him being able to basically mind control other people?? Or hack their bodies?? Since humans literally run on electrical impulses??

Now I know Nya can’t draw the water out of his lungs, but that doesn’t mean that using your element inside someone else’s body is impossible. Maybe that’s just confined to other elemental masters. And of course I haven’t seen DR yet (two episodes away from finishing Crystallized!! I’ll have caught up with DR by this time next week for certain), but I’ve heard a lot of discussion about Jay coming back as a villain in S2… can you imagine how absolutely batshit of a villain Jay concept would be if he came back and just mind controlled people?? And it would totally tie into his cult leader antics as well (I’m still so sad that the League of Jays was pretty much abandoned after the first couple episodes… it was such a funny concept and could’ve actually been used for some fantastic plot/character development … but… alas :( )

Anyway. Basically all that to say I just got smacked in the face with a new Villain Jay idea and I’m soooo going to start using him for fic stuff. Maybe I’ll even tie it in to the AU concept I’ve been working on for a while.. maybe..

#Ninjago #lego ninjago #Jay Ninjago #jay walker #villain Jay walker #I haven’t talked about my AU concept yet but I’m really in love with it HAH #we get lots of angst.. and it primarily focuses on Zane and Pixal since they’re the only two left for like a thousand years #basically all the rest of the cast merge with their elements for plot reasons #but Zane either can’t cause he’s a robot #or refuses because the people of Ninjago still need a protector #so he and Pixal stay #and the other former ninjas become old deities/gods #no one believes they actually ever existed #but they worship them as divine beings #they’ve passed into myth and legend and Zane and Pix are pretty haunted by losing them and being the only ones to remember their lives #eventually they will come back but they wil probably be wrong and my Nindroids won’t know how to feel or handle it #I can’t wait to write that actually #but Jay getting reanimated as a villain would be sooooo rad

[radiantallomancer]

“Alright, Deku, you got the tent set up during your mutterstorm somehow and I’ve gotten the fire started, so I’m gonna throw together some curry now. Already prepped the ingredients before we left, so it ain’t gonna take that long. Wash the rice for me, yeah?”

Izuku smiles back at Katsuki, admiring the look of quiet happiness there. Although Katsuki mostly utilizes his face for various expressions of irritation or battlelust, Izuku finds gentle contentment suits the blond just as well. “Of course, Kacchan. Anything for you.”

—————

Inspired by a conversation about bkdk and Heathers with @samisnotlegend on discord!

“…taking these lyrics from “Meant to Be Yours” outta context and make ‘em bkdk: ‘bring marshmallows, we’ll make s’mores! We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars!’”

#bkdk #bakudeku #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #rads writes #figured i might as well start cross posting my stuff now that i have a tumblr

[yupekosi]

no clue what the overlap between the hatchetverse and community fandoms is but Regional Holiday Music and The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals have almost exactly the same plot except one is played for laughs and the other for horror

#rewatching community and. yeah. mr rad is pokotho coded #there's a crossover fic idea there but i cba to write it #hatchetverse #hatchetfield universe #hatchetfield #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #starkid #community show #community tv #community fandom #community nbc

[redisaid]

It's ghostfucker season, y'all. Time for the yearly reminder that Fearless exists and is probably my favorite thing I've ever written.

I beg you, if you read one thing of mine and one thing only, please read the ghostfucking story.

#sorry i haven't written anything lately #please take this consolation reminder that fearless exists #i made jaina proudmoore into a mean witch once and it was rad #and made her fuck sylvanas windrunner who was a sexy dj ghost #and i wrote this while in a complete panic over the 2020 election #tbh early pandemic me had some fire writing where did she go???

[strangelittlestories]

When dad and me died*, his death resulted in a whole *production*; tears were shed, swords were thrown into rivers, and grandma hid him away in a custom-built tomb** so he could come back ‘when like, we really need him, y’know’?

(*Okay, fine, that’s maybe not the most honest phrasing. It’d probably have been more accurate to say “When I killed Dad and he killed me”. And it would have been most accurate to say “when I impaled Dad with a spear and the *absolute madman* clawed his way up the haft inch-by-painstaking-inch to stab me in the heart with his magic sword”.)

(**Like, seriously, did she just have a mystical suspended-animation tomb ready to go? That’s creepy. It’s not just me right, that’s a little weird?)

But me? I was just left to rot on Pelennor Fields with all the other riff-raff.

(Wait, SHIT - Pelennor Fields is the Tolkein one, isn’t it? The fields of *Camlan* are where I died. Sorry about that - in my defence, I died many centuries and several Lord of the Rings binges ago.)

I guess I should be grateful that they left me alone. It wasn’t so long ago (and not so long after) that traitors to the crown used to get their heads displayed on pikes or hung in gibbets. But folks were pretty busy with king dad’s big send-off and mourning the dream of chivalry (plus burying all the dead folks they actually liked), so no-one really bothered with tidying up the remains of the traitor prince. 

Plus, I think most of the knights and nobles had thought I was a bit of a weirdo and didn’t want any more to do with me in death than they did in life. Probably afraid that I’d reanimate and use my last foetid breaths to tell them about a cool mushroom I’d found. Then they wouldn’t know how to respond, and it’d just be *awkward*, y’know?

So anyway, there I was, lying there with my blood soaking the dirt and my vital organs getting decidedly less vital by the second. And all around me was a whole field of other dead people that I’d gotten killed and honestly I was feeling pretty shitty about the whole thing.

How was I dead and still feeling shitty you ask? Well, first of all: I am a multi-tasker. And second of all: I guess I wasn’t maybe *all-the-way* dead*.

(*Or rather: I was very much dead, but I was *also* very much in my body and doing a big old hecking panic about that, thank you very much.)

Something you should probably know about me: I was adopted. Yeah yeah, I know you’ve heard the propaganda, that my mum and dad were brother and sister and that’s where a lot of my *fundamental weirdness* comes from. And *yes*, they were siblings, but *no* it wasn’t like that. Dear old mum and dear dead dad *found me*. 

Specifically, they found me in a weird-ass cave spattered in the blood of a monster they’d just slain (it was A Whole Thing, I’ll tell you about it some other time).

They figured that the beast had stolen me after killing my family or something like that.

This was incorrect.

A certain bearded crap-o-mancer speculated that I was the *beastie’s* boy, but that’s wrong too.

The truth is weirder. You see … I was the cave’s kid.

Yup. Child of the earth, right here. Or to give a less flattering but more apt name … I was a dirtbag.

#a bit of arthuriana for y'all #did I accidentally start writing a young adult novel from the perspective of prince mordred #yes I did #writing #short story #flash fiction #and a bonus pun at the end there too #rad

[e-flo]

ZORO'S BIRTHDAY HAVE A FICLET WEEEEE

ft. the crew and some light zosan :3

Zoro never thought much of his birthday. It was just like any other day, really, simply marking a passage of time. What did that matter when there were so many other moments that had truly changed him?

He remembered the day he met Luffy. His crazy captain turned his entire world upside down and only asked that he stay by his side in return. It started his closest friendship since Kuina. He remembered her passing, too. Two thousand and one losses followed by the biggest loss of all. He picked up both of their dreams that day and held them close in his chest ever since.

Zoro also had each day his nakama joined the crew committed to memory. The day the cook joined had the double honor of also being the day he first challenged Mihawk. He gained his largest scar, an indispensable partner, and a renewed vigor towards his life goal in one swoop. Honestly, if there were any anniversary worth celebrating, that might be it. Though the day he finally admitted his feelings to the cook would be a fair contender.

They had been arguing, then teasing, then sparring, and then finally recovering from their tussle, collapsed on the empty deck while the rest of the crew slept. It was almost funny how they had fought as quietly as possible in those sleepy pre-dawn hours, drawn together by the challenge and their unique magnetism. The sun took its time crawling over the horizon, slowly warming the grass and casting long, merging shadows behind them.

Zoro had taken the opportunity to watch the dawn kiss Sanji's skin, warming it golden-bright as the breeze trailed across his hair. The sparkle of easy waves paled in comparison to the light reflecting in his blue eye. Zoro felt an uncommon peace take over his body, inhaling the salty air, he exhaled everything that had clicked into place. “I hope I get to sit in the sun like this every day.”

Sanji smiled next to him, pulling his leg up to rest his chin on his knee. He held it in a relaxed hug, turning to offer the swordsman a wide smile so rarely directed his way. “Careful tough guy, that's a pretty romantic thing to–”

“With you.”

Sanji blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it. He blinked again. Zoro felt his face heat at the wide-eyed look but he refused to take it back. Huffing to cover his embarrassment, he turned to look back at the colors dancing over the horizon. He felt Sanji's heavy gaze slide off of him and their cozy companionship returned with surprising ease. The sun felt especially warm.

The cook eventually left their quiet morning to start breakfast and the smell of coffee lured the crew out of their bunks before long. Nami commented on him being up early, but Zoro brushed it off with a grunt as he followed her into the galley. He sat down and waited for his plate, wondering if the cook would say something.

Zoro fell into a small doze, lulled by the sounds of cooking and Nami going over her plans for the next island on the way. A plate landed in front of him with a short, “Eat up, musclehead.” Zoro opened his eyes and fought the broad grin that threatened to take over his face.

Sanji had made omurice, one of his favorite breakfast foods, smelling strongly of pearly white rice, sesame, and perfectly folded eggs. Sitting on top of the omelet was a silly little ketchup drawing of a sunrise. It was little more than a half circle with squiggly little rays coming out of it, but Zoro thought it was charmingly perfect. He glanced back up in time to see Sanji turn around, only the redness of his ears giving him away.

He quickly shoveled the eggs into his mouth before Nami could tune in and ask questions. As he ate, he resolved to corner the cook after breakfast. He had a feeling their conversation could be the start of something monumental.

So what was a simple birthday in the face of that? Just another day, nothing special.

And yet as Zoro woke from his midday nap, nestled among the mikan trees, he felt his chest fill with some warm emotion. Chopper had taken up residence on his stomach, snoring lightly as he rose and fell with Zoro's breaths. Luffy was sprawled across his legs, mouth open wide and drooling while his own feet were propped up on an unconscious Usopp.

Turning to his left, he spotted Nami reclined against the tree next to him, head tilted back into the mottled sunshine. Robin as well was reclined against Franky, a book propped open in her lap as she rubbed a hand across his fuzzy scalp. He was also passed out and drooling into the grass. Zoro could vaguely hear a deep rumble that announced Jinbei slumbering nearby along with Brook’s violin accompaniment.

A snuffle on his right announced the last figure tucked under his arm, a leg slung over his hips and just barely missing Luffy’s ribs. Sanji’s face was close, nuzzled into his shoulder. His eyes were closed, his breathing soft and even as he took a rare reprieve from his work in the galley.

Zoro couldn't help but smile. His crew was all piled around him, snoozing away under the mikan trees. Above him, he thought he heard Brook’s melody turn suspiciously to a birthday song. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a familiar kiss hit the underside of his jaw, catching him in his quiet joy.

“Happy birthday, marimo,” Sanji whispered before he settled back down with a contended sigh. “Dinner will be ready in a half hour. Go back to sleep.”

Zoro complied with a quiet hum, closing his eyes once more. As he lay on the Sunny’s deck, surrounded by his nakama and warmed by the sun, Zoro couldn't help but think today was something worth celebrating after all.

=x END x=

#tumblr formatting Goofy i'm not dealing with it #zosan #e-floetry #fic writing #roronoa zoro #one piece #it's exactly 1000 words how Rad